


Bitterness and Frank Pulls an Oprah But With Basses

by Merkey666



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Christmas Eve, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkey666/pseuds/Merkey666
Summary: Pete and Mikey definitely didn't fuck in Gerard's bathroom on Christmas Eve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> LAST ONE JESUS I DIDN'T THINK I'D MAKE IT THIS LONG ALSO MERRY WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE OR HAPPY RANDOM WINTER NIGHT IF YOU DON'T CELEBRATE ANYTHING
> 
> Also: this is in a universe I based off of something I'm writing in my spare time and it will be uploaded eventually. Basically, Gerard married Frank instead of Lindsey (no hate to her, I love her so much) and they adopted Bandit.

“Merry Christmas!” Gerard hollered, opening his door in his full on Santa costume. Mikey raised both eyebrows and cracked a worried smile. Gerard pulled his brother into a hug and laughed. 

“Last time I checked, Santa didn't have bright red hair,” he replied, chuckling and ruffling his brother's hair. There was a snort from farther back into the house, followed by a childish giggle. Mikey perked up, hearing that little noise, and stepped into the house. 

“Where's my favorite niece?” he asked, crouching down and scuttling along the floor on his knees. Bandit hid behind the kitchen island, giggling quietly. Mikey rounded the corner and Bandit’s screech mixed with Mikey’s maniacal laugh of victory creating a warm overlay for the Christmas carols playing.

“She's your only niece, Mikey,” Frank said from the sink where he was still cooking. He'd been in there for two days, and he'd even slept on the kitchen table that night. 

Mikey waved him away, as Bandit was begging him to stop tickling her. He ruffled her hair and walked over to Gerard who was giving him a ‘secretly concerned’ look. Mikey walked over, avoiding Frank’s equally internally worried look.

“No Pete?” Gerard asked quietly, leading his brother into the living room which was a little overly festive. Mikey smiled minutely and took a seat on the couch.

“Yeah, he's off with family in Chicago. It's no biggie, it's bound to happen sometimes,” his eyes clouded over as he spaced out, staring at the window. “I just didn't think it would happen on Christmas.” Mikey got really quiet for a few seconds. 

Bandit burst into the scene, covered head to toe in tinsel. Gerard tore his gaze away from his brother and welcomed his daughter with open arms. Mikey smiled a little wider, deciding to take in the house at that moment. He looked around, noticing everything from the corners where Bandit had drawn on the walls to the ornaments hanging from the light fixtures to the Christmas tree in the corner. It even smelled like Christmas. Aside from the scent of evergreen that was so intense it was nearly impossible to not smell it, there was also a scent so sweet he could almost taste it. He hazarded a guess that if that smell, which was probably sugar cookies, stayed in the oven any longer, it wouldn't smell as good for much longer. 

“Bandit helped us decorate. It’s pretty over the top, huh?” Gerard smiled proudly. Mikey snorted, nodding along as Bandit flopped into a bean bag in the corner. As she re-busied herself, her father turned back to Mikey. 

He put a hand on Mikey’s back. “That sucks, Mikes. Anything I can do?” 

Mikey shook his head and gave him a weak smile. Gerard squeezed his shoulder and got up, the scent of burning cookies followed by shrieking had gotten his attention.

“Hey,” Mikey piped up just before he stepped out of earshot. Gerard turned back. “Keep me busy?” 

“It's fucking Christmas. Of course you'll be busy.”

~

Mikey was kept entertained and on his feet through most of the night, yet it still hurt to see Patrick and his wife walk through that door without Pete. He knew it was stupid childish to be so clingy, as they were only dating and Pete had every right to see his family over the holidays. Still, Bandit didn't exactly make up for his boyfriend.

The doorbell continued to ring, the door opened for countless people, all spilling into the warm living room. Mikey greeted many smiles and bright, twinkling eyes, darting around to see the decorations. Andy, Joe, Spencer, Dallon, and more family friends that he didn’t even know. Gerard waltzed around, acting like the super-mom he promised himself he would not become. When the door became still, the doorbell an echo in the brain, no knocks on the wood, he walked over to watch his daughter. A Charlie Brown Christmas played on the tv, Bandit laughing every single Charlie Brown fell, courtesy of Lucy. 

“Lucy’s a bad influence,” Frank hissed in Gerard's ear. Gerard nearly dropped his glass in fright and sent Frank a look. Frank pressed a kiss onto his cheek and clinked their glasses together.

Frank was halfway through saying cheers, when there and was both a clunk and a slam from the entrance hall, followed by footsteps and shouting. Both men turned around to see a very winded Ryan, stumbling into the living area wildly. Gerard’s brain wasn't working fast enough for him to even form a response. Ryan looked to the hearth and let out a sigh, running a hand through his snowy hair. He pulled off his coat and collapsed on the couch. 

“Where's Brendon?” Gerard asked cautiously. Ryan nodded at the fireplace as if that was supposed to make any sense to them.

“He's coming down the chimney. He wants to be Santa, so I had to check that there was no fire. Sorry for the rush.”

“Ryan, why?!” Frank bolted towards the door, shrieking at Gerard to watch Bandit. Aside from the snow forcing itself in all the holes on Frank’s face, the first thing he saw was a leg slide up onto the roof. There was a shout of victory.

“Brendon, what the fuck?!” Frank shouted from the front yard. Brendon burst out laughing, and a moment later a Santa hat came whirling down to his feet. Frank didn’t have the words to tell him to get down, as it was Christmas Eve, but with that in mind, he realized not much of anything would be merry and bright if Brendon got stuck in the motherfucking chimney. 

“Dude, get down! Do not go down the chimney!” Frank couldn’t believe he was having to tell this to a grown man he called his friend. Brendon held back a laugh- Frank was still using his ‘responsible mature adult’ voice. Brendon felt like a child, the Christmas season getting him all sappy and cheerful. Overly cheerful.

“Why? It’s Christmas, Frankie, don’t be a grinch!” He didn’t want to argue with that, but if he let Brendon go down the chimney, the repercussions would be unimaginable- Not to mention, a bad influence. As much as Frank would’ve loved to scream a number of obscenities, not only would literally everyone hear him, it would get him nowhere with Brendon. Leverage was a very difficult thing to gain from Brendon.

“Hey! I think I found the chimney!”

“Congrats! You’re smarter than a brick!” Brendon leaned over the edge and sent him a glare. The window howled and he stepped back, trying very hard not to fall off. Frank was so close to not caring anymore when Brendon started singing the Hokey Pokey. 

“You sound like Bandit!” Frank shouted tiredly. Surprisingly, this got a rise out of Brendon. He slid back over the roof and poured down at Frank.

“Is she here?” he asked, eyes wide. 

Frank raised his eyebrows, not that Brendon would’ve been able to see that between the pounding snow and the dark night. “Where else would she be?” 

Brendon huffed and rubbed his eyes. Frank held his breath and his eye contact,and most importantly, his ground. After a few brutal seconds, Brendon relented. He sighed and slid his legs around the edge and hopped off. The ground was only about seven feet farther down than he had imagined. He was lucky that the part of the roof he was on was only one story.

He walked over to Frank and slapped an arm around his shoulder. Frank watched him try to play off his limp, even though it was so painfully obvious. Brendon smiled through the pain mutely, staring straight ahead. 

“You're a fucking idiot, Brendon. You know that?” Frank laughed pathetically. Brendon clenched his jaw and cocked his head at Frank angrily. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Frank.”

***

“I’m really sorry that Pete went back to Chicago,” Ryan said, sitting down in the spot next to Mikey on the couch. Mikey scoffed and tilted his cup of cocoa in a circle, while he watched Frank shout at Brendon through the window.

“We’re close, we have been for a while. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for him. He gave me a call a few weeks ago when he decided that he was going back home, and, uh, he was really upset. He wasn't crying or anything, because you know Pete, but he was… definitely apologetic. So, here's my apology from Pete: sorry, Mikey.” Mikey laughed, pushing him back a little. 

“What, are you gonna kiss me now?” Mikey joked, pushing his glasses up, which had fallen down his nose like Santa’s. Ryan shook his head, chuckling.

“No, sir. I have a boyfriend of my own, even if he’s a moron sometimes.” The front door nearly exploded in on itself from the force of which it was opened. 

“All the time!” Frank exclaimed, hobbling in with Brendon still draped over him like a wet towel. Ryan turned back around to Mikey. 

“-All the time.” 

Before the conversation could resume, the door opened again, revealing Ray and his wife. Gerard nearly teleported to him, giving him a very flour-y hug. Ray smiled, clapping him on the back and pulling back. A puff of flour arose from the impact of the clap. He ignored the flour on his nice shirt and walked over to greet the rest, while Gerard welcomed his wife. The two struck up a comfortable conversation while Ray found his way to the living room where and both of his band mates hugged him warmly, laughing at his reaction to the overly decked out room. 

“It’s a little much, huh?” Frank chuckled, leading Ray further into the Peppermint scented depths. Ray smiled and looked down at the rug that had been littered with Reeces Peanut Butter Cups wrappers, courtesy of Brendon and Bandit. 

“Yeah, its… it's something.” That's fair, Fank thought lamely. Gerard scuffled over, picking up Bandit along the way. They struck up a conversation just like normal, only pausing when Bandit cut in with some highly important comment. 

The music swelled to a conclusion and Ray stifled his laugh terribly. “Hall and Oates? That's not very Christmas-y.”

“Yeah, what are you, ninety?” Frank shrugged and pushed Gerard lightly. 

“That's the domestic way!” he laughed. “Isn't that right?” He looked directly at Bandit who giggled. 

“If Hall and Oates is the domestic way I'm never going to have kids,” Ray sighed, playing it off as a joke, but Frank wasn’t so sure. 

“How is the domestic life, anyway?” Ray asked, grabbing a peanut butter cup for himself. Frank and Gerard looked at one another and shrugged. Bandit watched them, turned to Ray and shrugged herself. 

“How are they, Bandit? Are they good daddies?” Ray bent down and asked. Bandit smiled and booped Ray on the nose, that being her default reaction to people she didn’t know very well. She and Ray would have plenty of time to bond in the future. In the corner of the room, Brendon stood, stretched, and rubbed his hands together excitedly. He only had one word in mind, and that word meant a whole fucking lot to Bandit. 

“Is it time for…” he asked lowly. “PRESENTS?” Now shouting above the crowd, he got Bandit’s attention who flung herself out of Gerard’s arms and onto the ground, running with leaps and bounds over to Brendon, where she clung to him like static. Frank gave Gerard a very annoyed glare. Ray, wishing to avoid the domestic drama, returned to his wife by the table full of finger food and watched from afar. 

“I dunno… Don’t you think it’s a bit early? It’s only seven-thirty,” Gerard worried aloud, alternating between glancing at the clock and at his daughter. Bandit stuck out her lip and pouted at her two parents with admirable grit for a three year old. Gerard nudged Frank slightly and when he turned back around, pressed a kiss onto his cheek. Frank huffed and turned back around to face a giggly Bandit with Brendon’s hands over her eyes.

“Alright, fine. Go for it,” Frank sighed, a small smile creeping up on his face. Bandit shrieked with glee and practically dove underneath tree. The most amusing bit was how Brendon pulled the exact same stunt, only seconds later. 

Presents were… eventful to say the least. Frank wrapped paper around Gerard’s head at least seven times, until Bandit caught on and Frank realized he was probably being a bad example. There were, sadly, no glitter bombs in the mix, and in comparison to on tour Christmas’s, this celebration seemed a little lame. Frank was pretty sure Ray’s wife much preferred to have him home, along with Patrick’s wife. Frank noticed glum cloud that surrounded Mikey during all minutes of the day. Frank pulled out a receipt from his pocket and grabbed a pen off the table. There was one thing that ought to cheer him up, if only a little. 

Frank quickly scribbled down the truth, folded it into an airplane and threw it at Mikey. By some miracle of God, Bandit didn’t immediately smack it down, but watched it fall onto Mikey’s lap instead. While the chaos around them insued, both Bandit and Frank watched Mikey’s eyes slide down the page until he looked up at Frank from under his glasses in disbelief. 

“Are you joking?” he mouthed, trying to keep out of the spotlight. Frank shook his head and grinned as bright as the afternoon sun. Mikey dropped the list and coughed from over excitement. Moments later, Gerard saw Mikey throw himself across the rug and bowl Frank over in a hug. 

“‘Scuse me, Frank. Wrong Way!” Mikey chucked his piece of paper at Gerard, who somehow caught it. His eyes looked over the messily scribbled words that were so obviously written by Frank that it was almost painful.

“You bought him a bass?!” Gerard yelped, successfully capturing everyone’s attention, even his daughters’. Frank nodded, still smiling that thunder and lightning grin.

“Oh, okay then. I didn’t know this was happening, so merry Christmas!” Gerard said awkwardly, shooting Frank side glares all throughout. 

That had been a pretty good save on Frank’s behalf, despite his wonderings where he could actually buy a bass for Mikey, as he had not already done so yet. Gerard was almost a little bit jealous of how seemingly perfectly Frank had handled that, and how he hadn’t thought of it first. While Bandit was playing with a combination of superhero figurines and barbies, the doorbell rang. Gerard and Frank made instantaneous eye contact.

“It’s your turn,” Frank grumbled.

“No, it’s not.”

“I got the door for Patrick when he realized he’d left his keys in the car and went to go get them without telling anyone. Your turn.”

“That doesn’t count, Frank.” Gerard crossed his arms stubbornly. 

“Counts in my book!” Mikey shouted from the couch. Frank turned to Gerard and gave him a shit eating glare-grin combo. Gerard watched Mikey lazily return to his phone the moment Frank looked away. The chair was a little isolated and he felt a little bad. It was getting late and Gerard still hadn’t proven to be a better sibling than Frank, and Frank wasn’t even his brother. 

Gerard grumbled as he got up and walked to the door, feeling Frank’s sneer on his back. He dragged his feet across the tile, grumbling things he wouldn’t have wanted his daughter to hear ever in her life. Putting those feelings aside, he pulled open the door, eating a face full of snow. After he'd wiped the quickly melting slush off his face, he gasped. 

“Hi!” he whispered, holding the door open in awe. 

“Hey, Gee.”

***

“Mikey, I forgot to give you your last present!” Gerard peeked around the corner, beaming at the occupants of the living room. Mikey shifted Bandit off his lap, who instantly ran to Frank and practically melted into his lap. Gerard moved aside, making room for the last minute guest. 

“Pete!” Patrick shouted, grinning and hopping up. Patrick crushed him in a hug, smacking him on the back. Mikey stood next, his smile waiting a moment, just to be sure. Everyone in the living room held their breath, possibly even Bandit. In the blink of an eye, Mikey ran over to him and wrapped both around his back. Pete smiled wider than ever, holding him tight. He pulled back only to kiss him, poetically under the mistletoe. Frank covered Bandit’s eyes, gasping dramatically. Bandit giggled, clawing at his fingers and squirming happily under his embrace. Gerard definitely won the show off contest between him and his husband, and this hadn’t even been planned. Then again, neither had the bass. 

***

Mikey pulled away, knowing Pete all too well, that going to mean he was aware Pete would’ve liked to try to make it into a big show. His eyes glittered, threatening him with tears. 

“Don’t you cry for me, Mikeyway. I feel bad enough about the look on your face when I told you I had to go away for Christmas. What kind of dick move is that?” Pete laughed, shoving his hands into Mikey’s pockets like he used to when they were younger. Frank was too caught up in the moment to say anything about the use of language that was not PG. 

“Isn’t your family disappointed that you’re not spending Christmas with them? I mean, isn’t that a bit last minute?” Mikey asked, finally relieving Pete’s neck of the weight of his arms. Pete chuckled, putting his forehead and Mikey’s and smirking in the warmest way possible.

“Meh,” Pete shrugged. “They weren’t as sad to see me go as I’d hoped. I guess I was a pretty bad influence on the cousins.” 

“Oh, I can’t imagine why,” Frank grumbled sarcastically, pulling Bandit close. Pete rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Bandit stuck hers out right back at him from her position on Frank’s lap that looked as though it was only possible if one lacked a skeletal structure.

“You can’t be a bad influence if you’re the same age, Pete,” Mikey retorted, much to the approval of Patrick who also knew first hand how accurate that was. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Mikey!” Gerard shouted from the kitchen he’d disappeared into. No one could recollect him leaving. Before Mikey could shout a response, Pete poked his thigh gently. He tilted his head towards the hallway with a look on his face that Mikey couldn’t quite get a hold of. Without a word to anyone, the two descended down the hallway, slipping out of sight just before Pete shoved Mikey into the bathroom. They said nothing, but things were certainly said about them. 

Mikey wasn’t sure where this was heading, but Pete was grinning and that’s just about all Mikey could comprehend. 

And suddenly Pete’s lips were on Mikey’s neck, shoulder, hips, and everywhere in between. Mikey mumbled a few things, none of which were in English. The only thing he could focus on was not slipping and falling into the tub. Pet ripped off his clothes, all nine layers of them. Winter had its ups and downs. Pete kicked the door shut as footsteps began to sound from the hallway. 

“You should probably lock it,” Mikey whispered, watching his breath freeze in midair. Pete twisted the lock with one hand and twisted Mikey’s belt off with the other. All way going so well, with the winter air stinging and the two of them just burning up, all black and red, orange and white. 

“Wait-” Mikey said, and Pete immediately halted, halfway to his knees. 

“My niece is out there, Pete,” Mikey sighed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head. “And my brother. And I can’t go at it in the bathroom they use, as much as I really, really want to.” 

“My niece too,” Pete piped up, also standing back up and grabbing his own shirt. Mikey laughed and looked over at Pete like he was three seconds away from either suffocating with laughter of bursting into tears. 

“You wish,” Mikey hissed. Pete pulled his shirt on and looked at Mikey a little differently, a little more solemn, a little more honest. Honest for Pete, that is.

“Maybe I do.” Mikey pulled his glasses on and stopped dead, like he became a statue. He stayed like that for a few seconds, staring Pete down, trying to see if that was another joke or not. 

“F-fuck… You can’t just say that shit to me, Pete. Especially right after you almost leave me for Christmas,” Mikey said bitterly. The real bitterness caught on his tongue and more than a little hurt spilled out instead. 

“Almost. I’m here, aren’t I? I proved I love your family more than mine, I love you more than my parents, possibly. That was… not the greatest example, never mind,” Pete looked away, questioning his choice of words considerably. 

“Hey, Pete?”

“Uh huh?” Pete began to zip up his fly. Mikey grabbed his hand.

“Don’t.”

***

“If you ever tell Gerard I swear I’ll-” 

“He’d fucking kill me too. Not to mention Frank.”

Mikey went a little white at that, pulling on his jacket and other jacket and other other jacket. 

“Trap shut?” Mikey confirmed. Pete nodded sincerely and walked out of the bathroom in the most inconspicuous way he could. The purpose of that was a little defeated when Mikey walked out directly after him. Thank God they weren’t in the line of sight from the living room. 

Aside from that intermission the two of them took, the rest of the night was calm and peaceful. Bandit passed out a little before they exited the bathroom and had to be put to bed. Brendon and Ryan left as they still had one other stop to make before returning home for the night, and soon it was just another calm winter evening. As the clock reached eleven, the rest of the guests, who were few, began to disperse. Patrick and his wife left a little after eleven and Ray and his beauty followed not long after, all toying gifts in hand.

Soon there were only four saying goodbye, goodnights, and Merry Christmas’s. 

“Lovely kid, Gerard. I look forward to having her as a niece,” Pete said over his shoulder as he walked out the door, following Mikey. Gerard nodded and waved, a smile still on his face, until, of course, he realized what Pete had just said. His realization, which was soon followed by,

“SHUT UP, PETE!” From an angry Mikey, seating in the passenger seat of Pete’s car with the window rolled down. Pete chuckled and waved goodbye once more before jogging to his car and hopping in. Gerard watched them drive away from the doorstep, where he stayed, rooted to the spot. He said nothing until Frank came to his rescue, who was apparently also immobile a few feet back.

“Did he? Did-” Gerard stuttered. 

“Fuck if I know,” Frank sighed, walking back inside tiredly. Gerard pivoted around and scuffled back inside, still questioning what the fuck had happened. 

No answer was inside a present on Christmas morning.


End file.
